War, or rather, slaughter.
Humanity's slaughter of the Randan.
The victor's slaughter of the defeated.
It lasted for a period, a considerably long period, and likewise spilled countless amounts of blood: almost every Randan warship required true combat to capture and destroy, and the war that erupted between the elite guards of the two empires could be described as an exceptionally brutal struggle across the entire Galaxy.
The Randan warriors proved to everyone with facts that any race capable of contending for galactic hegemony would not be a mere rabble surviving by merely looking up to their heroes. When any emperor rose, there would always be a legion, an empire, and a race worthy of him behind him.
Courage, tenacity, perseverance, determination, and even in desperation, the noble resolve to fire the last shot, symbolizing unyielding will, against an unstoppable opponent and fate the Randan never lacked these qualities.
And it was precisely with such noble spirit and fortitude that they were slaughtered by the human army, not a single one left.
Neither fate, nor the Galaxy, nor the gradually dispersing gods in the clouds would shed even a single tear for their resolve and nobility, because the only great one who would weep for them had completely perished.
At this moment, the once formidable Randan Empire was no different from the slave races that had fallen beneath their feet.
In this Galaxy, there were simply too many excellent races, possessing the talent and aptitude to pursue destiny and the future: but there was only one throne for the victor; one side would survive, the other would fall.
Only this time, it was the once ambitious Xenos Empire that fell, and to kill it, the Lord of Mankind's fleet expended considerable effort.
Even with the deployment of a massive army including two Primarchs and several Mechanicus Arks, the Imperium of Man still spent several full Terra Standard Days to completely annihilate the Xenos army,
sinking every Xenos warship that fought to the death amid fervent shouts. The Luna Wolves Legion gained the greatest glory in this battle; the head of the Randan Overlord personally severed by Horus alone was enough to pile into a magnificent hill.
But the most arduous victory undoubtedly belonged to the Custodian Guard of the Imperium of Man. Above the nameless world where the Xenos Emperor fell,
Valdor led his silent brothers and sisters in a continuous confrontation and slaughter, eliminating all the Xenos elites known as the [Randan Custodian Guard]. This was a terrible war that would not be widely celebrated:
The Custodian Guard and Sisters of Silence suffered over half casualties in the blasphemous Xenos warships, while the Xenos Emperor's forty thousand personal guards and five hundred best overlords were completely annihilated.
These Xenos understood the meaning and value of coordinated combat better than the Emperor's proud golden warriors, not to mention that the blasphemous Labyrinth Engines were their familiar home ground, which was the main reason for the battle's extreme ferocity.
At least a thousand Custodian Guard and Sisters of Silence lay entombed in the twisted Xenos warships; their remains received the finest burial, while their tangible, and perhaps non-existent, ethereal souls slowly wandered in the increasingly calm Sea of Souls, eventually resting quietly beneath the endless light of that cold sun.
That was their reward.
Their only reward.
That was enough.
They were at peace.
At least, when Morgan observed them from afar, she indeed felt a tranquility and serenity from their aura that made her envious.
The Spider Queen's third eye twitched at this sight.
Hmm…
On second thought.
She wasn't envious.
——————
She wasn't envious.
Morgan thought so.
Then, as covertly as possible, she extended her invisible cat paw towards the warship brimming with the delicious souls of the Xenos Custodian Guard, quietly grabbing a large clump, rolling it into a ball, and stuffing it into her mouth.
Delicious…
Even compared to her few remaining treasures, these powerful souls, called Randan Custodian Guard, were incredibly sweet, even carrying a spicy note, perhaps the seasoning brought by the most resolute spirit.
It was just a pity there were too few.
Although Morgan considered her appetite to be as small as a hummingbird among lush foliage, merely forty thousand Randan Custodian Guard souls were indeed insufficient to satisfy her current appetite.
Having no other choice, she extended her cat paw towards the souls of the Xenos Warriors, which, though not as tasty, were plentiful enough to fill her. While these miscellaneous scum were somewhat tasteless to eat, most who reached this stage were the cream of the Xenos Empire, and while not particularly delicious, they certainly provided [nutrition].
Thus, Morgan happily enjoyed her dinner while watching with great interest how the Imperial fleet gradually annihilated the Xenos army: she focused on the performance of Horus and Mortarion in combat, and also gained a profoundly deep first impression of the human Custodian Guard on another battlefield.
At this moment, the Spider Queen of the Second Legion was in a rare state of ease: the mortal nurses and the First Legion's medical officers had been personally taken away by Corswain. Now, Morgan enjoyed a lavish lounge all to herself, propping her feet on the Warmaster's soft back, watching an immersive space gore opera, all while puffing out her soul-form cheeks.
She still had a headache and felt the inevitable fatigue and weakness after a violent expenditure, which even made her too lazy to maintain her form, keeping a body that looked somewhat excessively young: if anyone were to enter this room, they might wonder why a child could be so noble.
She was resting: she certainly had the right to rest; even if the Lion of Caliban came to find her, she could justifiably grab the nearest fruit platter and throw it at him.
After all, this was the [Unbending Truth], the flagship of the First Legion. Here, Morgan rightly possessed some leeway for capriciousness: even her children would benefit from it.
Hektor's squad was on guard outside her room, preventing anyone from approaching the Gene-Mother's chambers. In the room at the other end of the corridor, Lion El'Jonson and Vulkan's injuries had mostly healed on their own, though they were still unconscious.
Everything went so smoothly that Morgan even felt a touch of happiness: her thoughts seemed to be becoming more active, something Morgan herself hadn't noticed.
But unfortunately, this happiness only lasted until Morgan's third eye swept over that enormous clump of the most delicious soul.
That vast soul of the Xenos Emperor, located on a barren world, emitting a wondrous, toxic aura…
Ah… I want to eat it…
…
… No
No, no, no.
She didn't want to eat it.
She didn't want to eat it at all.
The Spider Queen patted her face, forcibly diverting her gaze elsewhere. However, this did not negate the fact that the delicious soul was still there: she could even smell its scent, and hear the sharp screams lingering around it.
Hundreds of billions of the most tragic, most insane death wails what a splendid accompanying melody for a meal that would be. She even recalled a dish about crying and souls she had seen on a menu in the Aeldari Empire…
No, don't think about it.
Morgan narrowed her eyes, quietly glancing at the cold sun above the [Imperator Somnium].
For some reason, the Lord of Mankind did not join the subsequent battle; he returned to his flagship, letting his children and subordinates earn glory in the slaughter.
And in the Sea of Souls, Morgan could see that her Gene-Father's boundless psychic radiance seemed to have some cracks, which might be the reason for his absence from the battle.
But this didn't stop her from quietly swallowing her saliva, turning her gaze back to the safer, drier Xenos souls.
After all, she could see: although the Lord of Mankind had moved away from the world where the Randan Emperor fell, his light continuously shone upon the Xenos Emperor's vast soul, as if performing some follow-up work.
She dared not approach.
Skipping past the pure white human souls, Morgan grabbed countless screaming and roaring Xenos souls by the handful, kneading tens of thousands of spirits into delicious meatballs, indulging in ravenous eating, using a false satisfaction to mask her grief and indignation.
Hmm…
She wasn't angry, she wasn't regretful, she didn't care: it was just a more powerful Xenos soul, and she had spent all her savings to get it, only to gain nothing now…
She wasn't angry at all.
Enough Xenos souls to fill an entire legion were thus arbitrarily stuffed into Morgan's mouth. The Spider Queen's cheeks even bulged, and that fleeting moment of joy had completely vanished.
At this moment, Morgan was like the most dejected marmot, ravenously eating in an unnoticed corner, turning waves of anger and resentment into rather loud chewing sounds.
And then…
Then she noticed that the cold sun seemed to turn with her ravenous eating.
It cast an emotionless glance towards Morgan's location.
…
…
…
Morgan: (X*)
Morgan blinked.
And blinked again.
For a moment, she even thought she was hallucinating: perhaps it was just an unfortunate coincidence? Or perhaps, he was just looking at Lion El'Jonson and Vulkan?
She thought so, a feeling called panic, accompanied by fear of absolute power and terrifying memories, surged in Morgan's heart.
Under this fear, Morgan, who had been ravenously eating, could only now…
Cover her mouth, feeling uneasy, and then…
Started chewing even faster.
The light of fear swirled in Morgan's blue-green eyes, and under this light, the Lord of the Second Legion puffed out her cheeks, covered her mouth, and chewed her food even faster, like a panicked marmot.
This made her feel safe.
…
After all…
Her way of releasing fear and stress seemed to be by eating ravenously…
——————
As Morgan secretly and carefully continued her meal, the Lord of Mankind sat quietly on his throne, a faint golden phantom briefly flickering in his pupils, then he saw the scene in the Sea of Souls in the physical universe.
Then, he saw countless roaring Xenos souls, forming a ceaseless, surging torrent, rushing past him and disappearing into a carefully concealed corner on the [Unbending Truth].
…
(_)
The Lord of Mankind casually glanced, showing no further concern: it was not yet time for him to acknowledge his only daughter. She still needed to do one more thing to receive the gift he had prepared.
In his heart, the Emperor, to some extent, agreed with Malcador's counsel: he perhaps indeed needed to expend some effort on Morgan, even if it was just the most perfunctory charade.
Because the Lord of Mankind had prepared three gifts for his only daughter.
One was a defective product, and could hardly be called a gift.
One was a half-finished product.
And the last one…
Was also a half-finished product.
…
It didn't matter; she would understand the meaning behind these gifts, after all, neither Lion El'Jonson nor Horus thought little of her.
Warmaster Horus even enthusiastically offered his suggestion: the Lord of the Luna Wolves desired to be the one to teach his sister, swearing he would do his best.
The Emperor did not refute this opinion; Horus was indeed trustworthy.
From the moment the situation of the Eleventh Legion was laid before the Emperor, Morgan's name appeared in the Lord of Mankind's vast sea of contingency plans. From then on, all her encounters would be shrouded in a golden phantom.
She would receive some indulgence: for the Lord of Mankind's future plans.
For his goals, the Lord of Mankind never minded taking actions that might seem unreasonable to ordinary people, for no one could truly understand and know every twist and turn of the Emperor's mind, not even Malcador.
This was not a matter of trust; rather, he simply did not want his last friend to bear more.
The gaze fixed on Morgan lingered for perhaps less than a second before being withdrawn for certain reasons: both the subsequent handling of the Xenos Emperor and the continuous suppression of the [thing] taken from the Dungeons of Mars in his palm were consuming the Emperor's power.
(According to the lore provided by GW, the Emperor did open the Dungeons of Mars to end the Second Randan War, but it was never explicitly stated that he actually released a fragment of the Void Dragon.)
Moreover, the backlash from the Silver Dragon in his palm was even more terrifying than that of the Xenos Emperor. The Lord of Mankind genuinely felt a twinge of pain,
yet he still had to grip it tightly at all times: aside from the Dungeons of Mars, his palm, and the temporary cage conjured by Malcador, he did not trust this power to be placed anywhere else.
It was precisely for this reason that he did not participate in more battles, nor did he immediately meet with his children: he knew that even when facing his children, he had to maintain an invincible posture.
He could not have even the slightest blemish.
As for Morgan, his daughter…
The Lord of Mankind narrowed his eyes. Despite the vast distance, he could still feel the Second Primarch's deep-seated greed for Xenos souls.
This was not a good thing.
Yet, it was not a terribly important or bad thing either.
Morgan had never crossed the Lord of Mankind's bottom line; although her actions were somewhat dark, they were not unbearable: indeed, compared to some of her brothers, she was truly the reassuring one.
The Emperor had grown accustomed to some peculiar quirks appearing in his children, or his children's children, despite their attempts to hide them.
For example, his perfect son with wings worried about his children's terrible eating habits, trying every means to conceal it: but even before Sanguinius's return, many ghouls had already brazenly devoured human flesh in front of allies and mortals; this was not even a secret that needed special investigation.
How could the Emperor not know?
As for Sanguinius's claim of curing his children.
Indeed.
Since the Phoenix of Fenris led his children to overcome the Rot, since Magnus the Red eradicated flesh mutation in moments, then wouldn't it be perfectly reasonable for the Archangel of Baal to lead his children to completely overcome the genetic impediments?
Perhaps it was indeed reasonable, but this was no longer something the Lord of Mankind needed to worry about: his matters were simply too numerous. Since his children were so reassuring, he would tentatively trust in their strength.
Think of the others: Lion El'Jonson, who had no desire for honor or titles; Perturabo, who swore to bear all burdens; Ferrus Manus, with his calm mind; and above them all, his proudest child.
Horus, his Horus, his Warmaster Horus, his Sagittarian.
He would inherit his blade; he would ensure he would never again don these tiresome armors; he would protect his Empire and his people, and Holy Terra: no one would ever be able to harm them.
The Lord of Mankind slowly curved his lips. As he thought of these loyal children once more, his gaze swept over his daughter again.
Lion El'Jonson and Horus affirmed her strength and demeanor, firmly believing her to be a reassuring collaborator and Primarch.
And the sword he had left in her mind, that protector, also faithfully reflected her situation: after the initial probing, she no longer extended her claws towards innocent humans.
As for the Soul Drinker's formidable reputation on the Randan front, there was no need to investigate it specifically to know much of it; her achievements were almost on par with those Primarchs who already had their own legions and were conquering all corners of the galaxy.
The Emperor closed his eyes.
Perhaps, he could look forward to her abilities and loyalty, and could conceive of how best to utilize her strength.
It was said that in the exploration of the northeastern fringes of the Galaxy, many vanguard units had already sent back a piece of information: a legend about a judge who ruled the world with immense power, eradicating all evil and darkness.
Perhaps, he could plan for it.
…But now was not the time.
The Silver Dragon in his palm shrieked restlessly, causing the Lord of Mankind to frown once more.
He suppressed it, yet again.
Then, he summoned Horus.
"My child, my Horus."
He said.
"I will send you a coordinate, a star system coordinate."
"Take your sister, and your legion, to that coordinate. There will be matters there that require your resolution."
"I will follow shortly."
"I understand, Father."
Thousands of miles away, Horus readily accepted his father's command, but soon, he hesitated and asked a question.
"Do I need to wake Lion El'Jonson, Father?"
"After all, I fear Morgan might be more accustomed to working with the Dark Angels."
"She must learn to be independent, and Lion El'Jonson has fought long enough. Now is not the time to ask him to fight again."
"I understand, Father."
Warmaster Horus's voice became more cheerful.
"Leave it to me, I will not disappoint you."
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